


Just A Fantasy

by ScienceFantasy93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dumbledore's Army, F/M, Gen, Ginny and Neville are about to go steal the Sword of Gryffindor, Ginny's thinking some deep thoughts, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Freeform, Kind of a drabble, Lots of Angst, The Sword Of Gryffindor, ginny - Freeform, the Carrows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScienceFantasy93/pseuds/ScienceFantasy93
Summary: She wonders what it would have been like if Dumbledore hadn’t died. It’s something she fantasizes about nearly every night. She’d have her brother here, safe and sound. Maybe he’d be dating Hermione – about damn time – and they’d be alternating between bantering and snogging. And Harry…she’d have Harry here. They’d still be together, stealing private moments in empty classrooms and in dark corners of the castle. Everything would be right. Everything would be okay. Everything would make sense.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Just A Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during Deathly Hallows and alludes to the scene that is mentioned, but is never seen, where Ginny, Neville, and Luna go to steal the Sword of Gryffindor. This takes place just before that, where Ginny's having a quiet moment by herself and reflecting on everything.
> 
> Please enjoy!

For the first time that Ginny can remember, her dormitory feels bitingly cold.  
  
She’s not sure if it’s just because Hogwarts no longer feels like home, or if it’s due to the Carrows and Snape possibly giving out orders that Gryffindor tower is no longer allowed to be warmed up. It won’t surprise her if that’s the case, but it does make her want to hex something – preferably the Carrows. She’s got a couple hexes in mind for them, but right now it has to remain a fantasy. Just a fantasy.  
  
Outside the dormitory window, pure white snowflakes seem to gleam in the dark like stars in the night sky, but none of the friendliness passes through the glass. Ginny can’t remember ever feeling this lonely at Hogwarts, except for perhaps her first year when she was possessed by Tom Riddle. And even then it wasn’t this bad. At least students weren’t being tortured. At least the headmaster gave a damn about the students. At least Harry, Ron, and Hermione were here.  
  
Harry…She wants to shove the thought out of her head. She wants to chuck it out the window. She doesn’t like thinking about Harry, because every time she does the knot in her stomach ties itself even tighter. It’s been there for months, since Snape killed Dumbledore. A knot of anxiety and stress and tension and fear. And thinking about Harry doesn’t help it, so she tries not to.  
  
Except that sometimes those thoughts slip in, and she can’t help herself.  
  
She slips off her bed and paces over to the window seat. It’s even colder over here, but she finds that she doesn’t care much. She looks outside and sees that, sure enough, winter has taken the castle by storm. If only it could sweep away the Carrows the same way it’s swept away the leaves on the trees.  
  
But that’s just a fantasy. No one is able to save Hogwarts from the Death Eaters. Not right now. Maybe not ever.  
  
But fuck it, she sure as hell is going to give it a go. What else is she going to do? Lay down and let the Carrows do whatever they want with her and her friends? It won’t take long until the other Death Eaters make themselves at home at Hogwarts. And then what? The muggle-borns and the blood traitors will be made into slaves. The girls will get it the worst, she supposes. It’s not something she even wants to consider, but she knows she has to. She has to consider all the possibilities, including the horrible ones. And fact of the matter is that there really aren’t any good possibilities at the moment. But she’ll keep fighting, her and the rest of Dumbledore’s Army.  
  
Because what else are they going to do?  
  
As she looks outside the window, she lets her thoughts drift back to Harry. She thinks back to those sunny afternoons on the grounds with him as he’d pull her into a lone corner. If she concentrates, she can almost feel his fingers threading through her hair, his lips against hers, his body plush with hers. She can almost smell the aftershave he uses, something that’s so clean and sweet – something that’s so _Harry_.  
  
And then she remembers his birthday, what almost happened – what was _supposed_ to happen. Thanks, Ron. Thanks a fucking lot. But at least she got a kiss in before they were interrupted by her brother. It’s better than nothing, she supposes.  
  
Hopefully he’s thinking of her right now, wherever he is. And that could be anywhere. They haven’t heard anything about Harry, Ron, or Hermione since they broke into the Ministry of Magic back in September. The knot in her stomach seems to pull even tighter as she ponders whether they’re all okay or not. She loves Harry – she’s in love with him. But Ron is her brother and Hermione is one of her best friends. She can’t imagine losing any of them, but she knows there’s a very good chance that that’s what’s going to happen.  
  
But again, it’s not something she wants to think about. Not right now. Not with what she’s about to do.  
  
“Fuck this,” she mutters. “Fuck everything.”  
  
She wonders what it would have been like if Dumbledore hadn’t died. It’s something she fantasizes about nearly every night. She’d have her brother here, safe and sound. Maybe he’d be dating Hermione – about damn time – and they’d be alternating between bantering and snogging. And Harry…she’d have Harry here. They’d still be together, stealing private moments in empty classrooms and in dark corners of the castle. Everything would be right. Everything would be okay. Everything would make sense.  
  
But it’s just a fantasy. Just a fantasy.  
  
There’s a sudden warmth in the pocket of her robes, and she reaches in to pull out the fake galleon. She sees that Neville has changed the time to today’s date and to 9pm. She checks her watch and sees that she has five minutes.  
  
It’s time.  
  
She swings her legs off the window seat and hops down. She double and triple checks to make sure she has her wand, before crossing the room and letting herself out.  
  
Neville is already waiting in the common room. He flashes a nervous grin at her. “Ready?”  
  
“I was born ready,” she says, trying for a cocky grin and failing.  
  
“You okay?” he asks, peering at her in concern. “You look a bit pale.”  
  
“I’m fine,” she assures him. “I’m just – I was thinking about Harry.”  
  
He nods but doesn’t say anything. It’s one of the things she loves about Neville. He knows when to stay quiet on a topic.  
  
As they move towards the portrait hole, they pass under a lamp and Neville’s face is thrown into relief. A long, fresh scar slices down his right cheek, and his left cheek is badly bruised.  
  
“What happened?” she asks before she can stop herself.  
  
“The Carrows,” Neville responds with a shrug. “Trying to get us to torture some muggle-borns in Dark Arts.”  
  
“Fucking hell,” Ginny hisses. She’s got her own scars, her own cuts and bruises, though they’re mostly healed. Not for long, she knows. And Luna will look even worse.  
  
“I know,” Neville says. “But that’s why we’re going to steal the Sword of Gryffindor. After all, if they don’t want Harry to get it but Dumbledore did, it must be important.”  
  
Ginny smiles grimly. “It’s not much, but if it helps Harry it’ll be worth it.”  
  
Neville nods, and together they ease through the portrait hole to go meet Luna so that they can break into the headmaster’s office and steal the Sword of Gryffindor.  
  
Because what else are they going to do?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
